She pushed at the fingers gripping her chin. She was tired, damn it. She muttered, “Would you stop talking so loud?”

“Pia, look at me.”

“I want to sleep,” she said, her tone petulant. Why did that voice have to be so damn beautiful?

It crooned, “I know, but you can’t. Suck it up, baby.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” She sighed but opened her eyes.

She looked up at Dragos, who smiled at her, his dark expression lit with an unfamiliar expression. On someone else she would call it relief. He propped his weight on one elbow by her head as he leaned over her. One side of his face was a dark purple bruise.

Her gaze left that puzzle and went on to others, traveling over an unfamiliar misshapen metal while they lurched in a constant, uneven motion. She lifted her head to peer out and she wished she hadn’t bothered. Monsters ran alongside them. The sense of dread from before hit her full force. The surrounding land shimmered with magic that was growing in strength. It was too much to take in all at once.

“We’re being kidnapped,” he told her in a calm voice. “Car wreck. Remember? I’m pretty sure they’re hauling us into an Other land.” He stroked her hair. “You’re all right. You were hurt but it isn’t bad.”

She looked down at her battered and blood-smeared body. A switch flipped in her head. “Oh God, I’m bleeding,” she stammered. She brushed at her arms, scrubbed at the wetness streaking her face.

“Whoa,” he said. He grabbed her hands. “Stop panicking. I said you’re all right.”

“Make it stop. I can’t bleed.” She struggled and started to hyperventilate.

“Keep your voice down. One of them might understand English.” He put a hand over her mouth, holding her down. “Damn it, I just closed your wounds. You’re going to cut yourself again if you’re not careful.”

“Dragos, I can’t bleed,” she said, muffled against his palm. “Do you understand? I can’t bleed!” She looked at him with wild eyes. “Can you burn it?”

He stared at her, his gold gaze arrested. “Pia,” he said, “you were cut all over.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she panted. “We’ve got to get rid of the blood.”

After a quick murderous glance at what was happening outside their private cage, he said from between gritted teeth, “Shit. All right, hold still.”

She froze, pushing out the panic. Moving fast, he tore her capris above the knees and stripped the bloody cloth off her. He used it to wipe her legs and the edge of metal that had cut her, and wadded it up. She fought to wriggle out of her overshirt, hampered by their close space. He helped by shredding it and then he used it to wipe the cuts on her arms and her face as best he could. He added it to the wad of material he clenched in one fist.

Magic surged. The truck coughed and stalled. Goblins ran to unhitch the flatbed, calling to one another as they ran chains underneath. A dozen Goblins grabbed the chains and began to haul them forward.

“We’ve crossed over,” he said.

She had never been to an Other land before. Her mother refused to take her, insisting their best chance at avoiding discovery was to hide among humankind. Despite everything else going on, the feeling of the land was intoxicating.

She peered out the ruined window. Majestic old-growth trees draped with vines towered around them. There was a symmetry to the land that fed her tired spirit. Her gaze followed the thick twist of a tree trunk up until the branches spread out high overhead with the graciousness of a vaulted cathedral ceiling. Steeped with age, drenched with magic, everything looked richer, greener, and the early-morning sunlight shone more golden and bright.

Pain forced her to lie back. She whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m pretty sure it won’t be where they’re taking us,” he said.

They both looked down at the short-sleeved lemon yellow T-shirt she had worn underneath. The right shoulder was soaked red, along with an area at her waist where she had bled through the overshirt.

“Tear it off,” she said. She pushed away a panicked sense of exposure. She hoped her bra was clean.

His eyes went lava hot as he glared at the Goblins surrounding them. “Fuck if I will,” he snapped.

He shoved the wad of material into her lap and then ripped the shirt at shoulder and waist until he got all the bloodied cloth. What was left of the T-shirt was a ragged mess that left her stomach and shoulder bare but the collar was intact. She peered underneath it and sighed in relief. Her bra was unbloodied.

Last of all, he tore off his own shirt, which was dotted with red spots. He tied the bundle up in the pieces of his shirt.

Then he held it up in one hand close to the crumpled window opening. His eyes narrowed. The lava in them flared just as his Power did. The bundle burst into flame.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

He said, “We are so going to talk about this when we get home.”

She shrank against his chest, away from the flare of fire, staring as he held the ball in his fist. It burned with too much intensity, fueled by his magic. She felt the heat lick along her skin but he was unburned.

He sent a sideways glance outside, a quick evil look, then flung the flaming cloth with enough force that it slapped a nearby Goblin in the face.

“Two birds, one stone.” He shrugged when Pia stared at him. He watched with interest as the screaming started.

The Goblin ran in erratic circles, slapping at his flaming face and howling. The fire refused to die. Instead, fueled by his Power, the magic of the land and whatever was in her blood, it spread to the leather armor. Pia turned away from the gruesome sight. She covered her ears and buried her face in his chest. He cupped the back of her head and watched as the Goblin fell down and died.

Payback was a beautiful bitch. She was also a good friend of his, and they were just getting started.

There were twenty Goblins left after the two Dragos had killed. Before long they were joined by another dozen. The newcomers switched places with the ones that had been hauling the flatbed. The pace picked up.

After Dragos pushed the distorted car out in a few more carefully chosen places, they could move around a little more inside and make themselves more or less comfortable. Then he focused his attention on what was going on outside.

She had watched with wide eyes as he had bent the jagged ends of metal around her legs so she didn’t cut herself again when she moved. That was some kind of scary strength he had. She fished around in the cramped, alien area at her feet and managed to find a battered bottle of water that hadn’t been punctured. They shared half of it in sips; then she capped the rest for later.

She had no doubt that Dragos had saved her life in more ways than one. She was grateful he had been able to stop her bleeding by sealing her cuts. He told her it was a form of cauterization except he was able to keep her from feeling the pain. It was too bad that was the extent of his healing skills, because her body ached all over.

She peeked out now and then, staring around in awe at the landscape that was so like and yet unlike the part of Earth she knew. The fluid roll of hills, burgeoning blue-green foliage, shards of sunlight sparking off crystal veins in granite boulders, the scenes they passed veiled some invisible truth that was so essential, so palpable, she could swear she could almost scoop it out of the air with both hands. Some long-denied, starved part of her soul unfurled and wailed with the need to drink from it.

Was it the magic of the Other land that called to her? Was it the ancient canny wildness of forest that had seen no woodsman’s axe, no farmer’s plow, that reminded her of her deepest self, the wild creature that lived trapped within the inadequate cage of her weak, half-breed flesh?

She wanted to cut at herself to let the poor creature out. The upsurge of desperate emotion was so violent, so uncontained, the part of her that was civilized with language and culture shrank away from it. An impulse ghosted through her to try to tell Dragos about the frenzy teeming inside, but civilization and language failed her in the end. She did not understand what she felt and so she remained silent.

As powerfully as the land called to her, the Goblins freaked her out, so she didn’t look outside too often. She chose instead to lie back in her broken seat and stare in thought at the mangled roof as she tried to explore the mysterious landscape she found inside herself. She became convinced the Goblins were the source of the dread that clung to her. The feeling crawled along her skin like baby spiders.

There were other layers to the mélange of contradicting, complicated emotions. Shock from the crash lingered. Fear clung, along with anxiety about what would happen next. Excitement welled that she was actually in an Other place.

Dragos existed at the center of all of it. He was her one point of stable reference, her compass point, true north.

His dark bronze skin seemed more intense, his inky hair more glossy, the gold of his eyes more burnished than it had been before. She wondered if it was an effect of the magic-saturated land, or if it was a side effect of the Elven poison working its way out of his system. Perhaps both.

She studied his dangerous face as he reclined on one shoulder and watched what happened outside. His gold eyes were calculating, and he kept the Goblin sword he had captured ready against his side.

She weighed the odds. On one hand, thirty or forty armed Goblins, give or take. On the other hand, one seriously pissed-off dragon. She thought of the enormous strength in those hands as he reshaped the metal near her legs. Maybe she was biased, but those Goblins were toast.

The trick would be how and when he was going to toast them.

“The problem is me,” she said, pitching her voice low like he’d told her to.

“What are you talking about,” he said in a soft voice, only half paying attention to her.

“Just like it was when the Elves had you surrounded. You wouldn’t fight them because I was in the way.” That got his full attention. She felt calm and clear. “I bet you could have gotten yourself out of the wreck probably well before we crossed over.”

“Speculation like that is useless,” he told her, frowning.

“Maybe you could have gotten free of the wreck before the Goblins even got the car onto the flatbed, right?” she persisted. “You didn’t, though, because of me. I’m holding you back.”

“Let’s be clear on something,” he said. “I don’t know what the hell you are. We’re adding that to a growing list of things for that conversation we’re going have when we get out of here. But one thing you’re not is a problem. Let’s say you are a tactical consideration.”

“Tactical consideration,” she huffed. “What does that mean?”

“It means you factor into the decisions I make. Stop fretting.” He flicked her nose with a forefinger. “Looks like we’re coming to our destination.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and looked out. They had been traveling for a long time. She wasn’t sure how long, because she had heard time moved at a different pace in Other lands. The sun had lowered until it looked like late afternoon or early evening, but if she went with what her body clock was telling her, it felt like they had been trapped into that awful wreck for an entire day.

The land had gotten rockier and wilder since she’d last peered out. Ahead against the bottom of a bluff was a grim-looking stone . . . fortress? Wow, she’d never seen a fortress before. A couple Goblins broke off and jogged ahead of the main group. Anxiety got the upper hand of all the other emotions in her mélange. Her stomach clenched.

Dragos’s hand settled on her shoulder in a firm, steady grip. “You listen to me,” he whispered. “You are going to do as I say. Do you understand? Now is not the time to argue or disobey me. I am the expert here. Got it?”

She nodded. She focused on regulating her breathing as her gaze clung to his.

“Here’s what you’re not going to do,” he whispered, looking deep into her eyes. “Do not draw any attention to yourself whatsoever. Do not give them a reason to believe you’re anything but incidental. Do not look them in the eyes. To a Goblin, that’s a sign of aggression. Do not speak to them. Do not struggle. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” she whispered back. That galloping horse was back in her chest. The way things had gone this last week, she’d lost ten years off her life from stress.

“Here’s what I think is going to happen. They’re going to separate us. They might hurt you.” His grip tightened to the point of pain. “They won’t kill you. They’ll have seen I was tending to you in some way, so they’ll want to use you as leverage to control me. Goblins have no interest in human women. They won’t rape you.”

A spasm of trembling hit her, and then it was gone again and she was calm. “It’s all right,” she told him. “I’m all right. I’m glad you’re telling me this.”

“That’s my good brave girl.” He let go of her shoulder and brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

“That’s pretty patronizing,” she said, refusing to acknowledge how her idiotic heart had swelled at his words. It seemed pretty clear by now she had no sense or good taste.

He gave her an impatient shrug. “So?”

Just like that she cracked up. His raptor’s gaze narrowed. She clapped both hands over her mouth to muffle the noise and sobered fast. “This is still about that penny, isn’t it?” she said into her palms.

“This is about the f**king penny,” he agreed. “I think it was used to put a tracking spell on me, much like the one we used on you. I don’t sense any real Power here yet, but I bet our orchestrator of events is on his way. It’s all the more reason you must not draw attention to yourself.”